


Heart to Heart

by uena



Series: The Sweetest Thing [18]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 03:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5233037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uena/pseuds/uena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flea confronts Athos about that kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart to Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [princeyoungjaes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/princeyoungjaes/gifts).



“We need to talk.” 

Flea sweeps into the apartment without giving Athos a choice on the matter, yanking her knitted hat off her head and throwing it onto the low sideboard next to the wardrobe. 

“Do we now,” Athos mumbles, closing the door behind her. 

It must be Tuesday. It's her day off on Tuesday. The only day of the week when no-one will wonder where she's off to when she leaves the orphanage and goes rampaging over the unsuspecting countryside. 

Athos has an inkling what this is about. 

“I assume Porthos showed you the picture?” 

“He did,” Flea confirms, stripping out of her enormous coat before slipping out of her boots. “What the hell were you thinking?” 

“I was thinking,” Athos says, taking her hat off the sideboard and hanging it on the wardrobe, “that Aramis needed reassurance, and that Porthos would be happy to receive visual proof of me reassuring his boyfriend.” 

Flea glares at him. 

“I shall make you coffee,” Athos decides. 

She follows him to the stove. 

“What is this sudden cuddliness?” she demands. “Didn't you tell me again and again that physical closeness makes you uncomfortable?” 

“There are exceptions,” Athos says smoothly. “You know that.” 

Flea takes a deep breath. “Athos -” 

“I am fine, Flea,” he says gently. “I promise.” 

She sighs and slumps against the kitchen counter. “You promise you're not overcompensating again?” 

The concern in her voice teases a little smile out of him. “I promise.” 

He can sense her studying his profile, still worried. “You're awful sweet to Aramis then.” 

“It appears that I am,” Athos murmurs. 

“Porthos says you really like him,” she perseveres. 

“I do,” he confirms. He knows where this is going, and sighs, somewhat weary. “I am not in love with him.” 

“That's what you always say,” she scoffs. 

Athos turns to her then, crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Usually we're having this conversation about Porthos.” 

“Yes, well, he's not the one you kissed,” she replies sounding frustrated. 

Athos doesn't understand her. For years Flea has been convinced that he's in love with Porthos, only – naturally – too blind to notice. According to her, Porthos loves him back, but doesn't do anything about it, because he doesn't want to push. 

Just because she grew up to fall in love with her foster brother doesn't mean everyone else has to as well. 

“You're frowning,” Flea observes at that point. “Why are you frowning?” 

“Because you are annoying me,” he tells her. “Why am I not allowed to be friends with people? Why do you find it so difficult to believe that despite the lack of romance in my life I am very well able to form meaningful relationships?” 

“First of all, there is no lack of romance in your life,” she informs him. “And since when am I telling you that you can't have friends? I'm your friend! The annoying one who tells you when you're being a moron.” 

Athos feels rather tempted to stick his tongue out at her. 

She must sense it. 

She sticks her tongue out at him. 

“Now what?” he asks. 

“Now we're drinking a cup of your lovely coffee,” she says, reaching out and patting his arm, “and you can try and convince me that you're not in love with Aramis.” 

“You know, you cannot go around changing your mind about my imaginary love life all the time,” Athos says, taking the coffee off the stove and getting two cups out of the cupboard. “Aren't I supposed to be in love with Porthos?” 

She takes the cups from him and carries them over to the couch table, looks up at him while she sets them down. “Oh, yes – him, too.” 

“What, both of them?” Athos asks, following her with the can. 

“Yes, of course,” Flea says, sitting down on the couch. She pulls her right leg under her and stretches her shoulders. “You have a big heart my friend. It demands exercise.” 

Athos huffs, amused despite himself, and fills their cups with coffee. “Does Charon know you're here?” 

“What, do I need his permission?” Flea asks, springing back up to get a coaster for the hot can so Athos can set it down on the table. 

“No, but it would interest me what his opinion on the matter is,” Athos replies, waiting patiently for her return. 

“Well, to be honest, he's kind of done with it,” she discloses, sitting back down. “He actually groaned and fled the room when Porthos showed him the picture.” 

Athos joins her on the couch. “Am I allowed to do the same?” 

She snorts. “Of course not.” 

“I had a feeling I wasn't,” Athos drawls. 

They both take a sip of coffee. 

“So tell me,” she demands then. “How did it feel?” 

Athos puts his cup back on the table. “How did what feel?” 

Flea groans. “Athos de la Fère, don't make me slap you.” 

“Since when do you need incentive?” 

She slaps him. 

“I hope you are not this violent when it comes to Charon,” he muses, rubbing the sore spot on his arm. 

“Of course not,” she says. “I love him. Which brings me back to the fact that you recently kissed your best friend's boyfriend and had the audacity to take a picture of it. Did you think I was going to ignore that?” 

“If at all I was thinking that it had nothing whatsoever to do with you. Can't I kiss whom I please?” 

She rolls her eyes. “No, you can't. Now tell me how it felt.” 

Athos takes another sip of coffee. “Nice enough. His lips are rather soft. But it was a very brief kiss, you have to understand – I was not paying the level of attention you seem to expect.” 

Flea groans yet again. “You are impossible.” 

“I am not the one invading your home, asking impertinent questions.” 

She narrows her eyes at him. “Are you really angry with me?” 

“Do I look angry?” he retaliates. 

“You never do; and then, from one second to the next, you're gnawing someone's arm off for insulting your Porthos.” 

“Let it go, Flea – I was six years old, and so were you.” 

“It still hurts when the weather changes.” 

“Good.” 

She giggles. “You know I really like you a lot.” 

“You always use that excuse for sticking your nose -” 

“That metaphor I do _not_ like,” she interrupts him, wrinkling said nose. 

He huffs. 

She smiles at him. “I will always believe that you're secretly in love with Porthos, you know.” 

“I won't try to dissuade you,” he says, shrugging. “I know a hopeless endeavour when I see one. Just do me a favour and don't tell Aramis.” 

She tilts her head. “Why not?” 

“Because it would make him worry, and feel guilty, and I don't want that,” Athos explains quietly. “They are very happy with each other, Flea. Let's not ruin that.” 

“I know you, Athos de la Fère,” she says. “You would totally hold back and sacrifice your own feelings for the sake of theirs.” 

“I keep telling you there are no feelings.” 

“Well, you're wrong,” she counters. “You love them both so much that you cannot see the wood for all the trees.” 

“As friends,” Athos insists. “I love them as friends.” 

Flea throws up her hands. “Oh, have it your way. Just do me a favour and keep kissing them. Maybe it'll give you a clue.” 

“Only if you promise that it won't result in more visits like this. I must say that I find them a little taxing.” 

“Ah, bah, nonsense. You thrive from opposition. It brings out the posh bugger in you.” 

Once again, Athos cannot help but smile at her. “I like you a lot too, you know.” 

She smiles back at him. “Yes, I do. Why do you think I dare fling my opinions at you the way I do? I've heard you deal with people you don't like. It's excruciating.” 

Athos smirks “So, what you are telling me, basically, is that my life would be a lot easier if I did not like you.” 

“That's a matter of course. Charon, for example, tells me that all the time.” 

“That his life would be easier if he did not like you?” 

She nods. “Just that. Only he uses the other l-word.” 

Athos' expression softens. “You are happy with him, are you not?” 

“Always have been, always will be. Like you and Porthos.” She winks at him. “That's the last I'm going to say about that for today, promise.” 

He believes her. 

Like Porthos, she always keeps her promises.


End file.
